


one more

by lalakiki



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Guardian Angels, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, References to Depression, Terminal Illnesses, brief mention of suicidal thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:41:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29709027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalakiki/pseuds/lalakiki
Summary: Watching from above wasn't enough.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Na Jaemin
Comments: 7
Kudos: 46





	one more

**Author's Note:**

> felt sad. have this quick little fic o' mine.

"This is Jaemin."

Somewhere in a quiet sector of the clouds, a little angel was born. He learned Jaemin's name first, then his own. Renjun. Though it's not as important as Jaemin's. His supervisor pointed this firmly into Renjun's mind so he wouldn't forget.

Wings sprouting from his shoulder blades, Renjun watched the tiny red baby squirm and squeal in Mrs. Na's arms. She looked fatigued, with dark crescent grooves under her eyes. Jaemin cried on and on. One pale body of wrinkles and flabs and stubby fingers.

Renjun smiled at the sight.

_Jaemin, do you hear me? I'm your angel. I'm going to look after your life now._

  
  


  
  


  
  


Jaemin tripped over a stone in the river once. Renjun watched it happen, hugging his knees, sinking into the cloud. His sector was quiet. The only other angel he had met was Donghyuck. He was pretty loud-mouthed and blabbered about how his human was popular with the girls in his class because he could play an instrument. 

Renjun wanted company, but maybe not in the form of Donghyuck.

Renjun could see blood on Jaemin's knee after he started wailing. Curious, he checked his own leg — no blood. There weren't tears welling in his eyes, either. 

It still hurt, though.

  
  


  
  


  
  


Jaemin kept hurting. 

Renjun felt his heart — well, if he had one — crush itself into oblivion whenever he watched things happen to Jaemin. It was only a couple rotations ago when Jaemin nearly fell over a bridge because he was hit with sudden nauseating vertigo. Renjun could vividly remember his head throbbing, like there was something trying to claw itself out by slamming into the walls of his skull. 

It hurt to feel exactly how much Jaemin was hurting.

It was a lot. Too much, even.

"Is this normal?" Renjun had consulted his supervisor once.

The man did not spare him a glance.

"It's _your_ human. You figure it out."

  
  


  
  


  
  


Renjun wanted to figure it out.

Maybe he didn't understand how humans worked. That could be it. He had spent fifteen years and counting observing how Jaemin treated the world and it treated him in return. He had only ever learned what Jaemin does and how he lives his life. To Renjun, Jaemin was humanity. That's all there was to it.

There was one thing Renjun didn't like. The fact that Jaemin would give and give, and the world would spit back at him and continue its daily orbit, already forgetting who Jaemin was.

Jaemin was happy around his people. Well — he acted happy. Renjun knew all about how Jaemin would slump onto his bed and lay there for hours, until his mother called him for a meal. Jaemin would drag himself out of bed in the morning, begrudging. Jaemin would walk to the mirror, stare at his reflection, and wipe his entire face vigorously like he was tired of seeing it.

Renjun would never forget Jaemin. And he liked Jaemin's face — he thought Jaemin looked pretty, far prettier than any of his classmates. He wanted to tell him these things, on top of the thousands of other reassurances he knew Jaemin desperately needed but never had the strength to ask for.

Renjun was willing. He wanted Jaemin to know that.

  
  


  
  


  
  


One night, Renjun stood over the edge of the cloud. Darkness and human civilization was one step away. One violently calm plunge away. 

Jaemin slept soundly in his bed, Renjun saw, surveying the city. The snowflake-shaped night light he had since middle school was broken and flickered like a distant star.

In came a deep, deep breath. Renjun's hands reached behind himself and readied a solid grasp onto his wings.

_One, two —_

With one great, agonized cry, Renjun tore them out.

Wingless, his feet slipped through the cloud, and he calmly fell.

  
  


  
  


  
  


"This is Renjun. We met in journalism."

"Hi." Jaemin waved a shy hello. Renjun outstretched his hand and took Jaemin's into a firm handshake. "I'm Jaemin."

_I know._ "It's nice to meet you, Jaemin," Renjun said, easy and light. 

Jaemin had faintly blanched at Jisung's suggestion to go out and eat together after class was over. Renjun noticed only because he knew how pale Jaemin was normally. No one saw the things he did — saw Jaemin like he did.

Their hands lingered in the shared grip. Renjun gave Jaemin's a gentle squeeze. It surprised Jaemin, who blinked at Renjun with round, curious eyes, and the life flowed back to his cheeks in trace amounts.

"Sure," Jaemin replied.

Renjun beamed at him. They walked together behind Jisung, holding hands.

  
  


  
  


  
  


"Are you alright?"

"Ah, yeah, I'm fine. I... I slept wrong, I guess." 

Renjun laughed airily to play it off. He had subconsciously been groping at his shoulders, grumbling at the persistent ache. Three weeks had passed by and his back still hurt. He added another bright grin at Jaemin sitting across the table; the last thing he wanted to do was concern Jaemin over trivial things. Jaemin had plenty to worry about. And he was supposed to be helping Jaemin, not the other way around.

"It looks like it hurts," said Jaemin, frowning. Oh, how Renjun hated his frowns. It was mild compared to his expressions of pure, silent despair he had witnessed before. But it was also an entirely different experience to face Jaemin like this in person. "You've been touching your shoulders for a while. Not just today."

"Oh," Renjun said. A shameful blush painted his cheeks. Jaemin had been paying that much attention to him?

Jaemin got up from his seat. He walked over to Renjun's side of the table, stood behind him, and placed his hands on Renjun's shoulders.

"It's fine, Jaemin, I swear," Renjun hurriedly said, gawking up at Jaemin.

For once, Jaemin had smiled. "It's just a quick massage. You'll feel better."

Jaemin's hands worked carefully. There was strength to his slow kneading, yet Renjun felt himself melting in his gentle grasp. A sigh slipped out without much thought to it. His back reclined to the chair; Jaemin chuckled close to his ear.

"Er— thank you." Renjun patted his shoulder blade. It really didn't hurt that much anymore.

"No problem." Jaemin's eyelashes fluttered towards his notes as he lifted his ballpoint pen. "It's the least I can do."

"What do you mean?"

"Well… How do I put this?" Jaemin put down his pen to meet Renjun's inquisitive gaze. He was smiling again. "I feel like you've been looking out for me. Maybe it's just my delusions, but — I really appreciate it."

Renjun pressed his lips together, momentarily flicking his eyes to his biology textbook that he had been pretending to study.

"That's what… friends do, right?" Renjun said, tentative. 

Renjun was hesitant about it; he didn't know the boundaries of friendship people laid out. Years of observing Jaemin from his bundle of joy phase to now, a teenage mess, and there were plenty of things Renjun still didn't understand. Things that were subtle. Things like the thin thread looping through every twist and turn in Jaemin's pitiful life and tangled around his lanky fingers.

"Yeah. You have a point," Jaemin said, nodding. He went back to jotting down notes. His smile had only faded when he confusedly pursed his lips at the section in his textbook he just read.

  
  


  
  


  
  


"You're sick, Jaem?" Renjun had asked, though he knew the answer.

"Just a little," Jaemin said, leaning into Renjun's shoulder. That was a lie. "I'll get better before you know it."

"Alright," Renjun simply whispered. He rested his hand on the opposite side of Jaemin's head, encouraging him to incline as much as he pleased. 

It was nice being like this — their bodies pressed against one another, with no room for space in between. Renjun's senses remained and he felt the same warmth that blossomed in Jaemin's body whenever they did this, in a timeless room where only they existed.

Jaemin pecked Renjun along his chin. He had asked for Renjun's embrace so that was what he got — Renjun wrapping his arms around Jaemin's hunched figure, protective and all-encompassing like a mother bird warming her beloved. Jaemin sighed and molded into the shape of Renjun's embrace. He was fluid and malleable, but he had only ever dissolved in this way with Renjun's hot breaths steaming his pale skin.

Jaemin snuggled in Renjun's arms. He fit perfectly in the snug space. Sure, he was physically larger, but he was also selfless. Almost to a reckless degree. Jaemin would give and give like always. There was a deviance now, in a universe where sunset bled through Jaemin's curtains once thought to be impenetrable:

Renjun would be there to say _thank you, Jaemin._

  
  


  
  


  
  


"I'm really glad you're here."

Graduation party was a sham. It sucked. Jaemin shouldn't have gone. He could have saved himself from the shame of having an artificially red drink splattered over his suit and being laughed at by the crowd.

The night was young and breezy. Renjun held Jaemin's hand, sitting on the lush riverside grass. The hustle and bustle of the city was far from their ears. Just the crickets and owls hooting and flutter of fins in the water.

"It's the least I can do," Renjun replied, remembering. Jaemin sniffled, Renjun kissing on the back of his hand to appease his trembling shoulders. He never liked it when Jaemin would cry, but sometimes it was necessary. 

"I don't know what I'd do without you, Renjun," Jaemin managed before his throat crackled. "I genuinely think I would be dead by now if it weren't for you. I'm so sorry. You probably don't want to see me like this. This is really pathetic."

_I see it all, Jaemin. I see all of you. You are all I see — want to see._

"Don't say that," Renjun whispered, his voice hoarse. He cupped Jaemin's face. Wiped the tears with his knuckles. Kissed him. That was all he knew. And he loved it. "I'm always with you. Always have been."

Jaemin shakily sighed. Renjun felt an ache roaring from the pits of his stomach. It was not his own pain, but it seemed like it was by that point.

"Can you stay by me, Renjun?" Jaemin clutched Renjun's wrist, rubbing his thumb where his veins ran thick and bold. "If it's not too much to ask for."

As forlorn as Jaemin sounded, there was a tinge of hope from the back of his throat. Renjun held onto that for dear life. 

"Yeah, Jaemin," Renjun said. "That's what I'm here for."

  
  


  
  


  
  


Renjun was not supposed to do this. He did not belong on Earth. The gaping holes left in his back were an unsightly reminder of his sins. Of his holy status that he easily tossed to the void, followed by a careless hurl of his body into mortality. 

He did not mind.

Jaemin groaned into Renjun's ear, a low, rumbling sound that Renjun felt his entire body shiver at. Their desires were lackluster. Unorganized. Raw. Primal. Jaemin cried Renjun's name every time his hands slithered underneath his clothes, counting the number of ribs they glided over. His thighs would shake as demands for something gratifying slipped past his swollen lips and Renjun obliged to every single one eagerly.

"You're beautiful," Renjun had murmured to him so many times, almost as many as Jaemin's sweet name. Jaemin felt good, and Renjun felt good in response — it was a cycle that he wished would spiral to infinity, never to be disturbed. 

"Renjun," Jaemin cried once, splayed over the bed sheet, wild with lust, every bit of his slender body made vulnerable to Renjun. "Please."

It could have meant so many things. So many things Renjun had yet to explore and define. Biting his lip, he took what Jaemin had to offer and ate it hungrily.

"Jaemin," Renjun moaned, mouth full of Jaemin's skin. "Jaemin." Jaemin. _Jaemin._

The cycle would be ending soon. Renjun knew there wasn't much time left.

  
  


  
  


  
  


Renjun couldn't visit the hospital often. Couldn't bring himself to do it. 

Jisung often went in his place, bearing flowers and cards and snacks that Jaemin technically wasn't allowed to have. Renjun asked Jisung to describe how Jaemin was doing in detail, hours spent over cups of Americano that Renjun, instead of drinking, kept palming between his tense hands.

"Why don't you visit?" Jisung asked, remarkably cold. Good question. "Jaemin wants to see you."

Renjun didn't know what to say. From the very beginning, it was taught that his biggest task yet came at death. He would know once the date was nearing — he had to be prepared for it, after all. The warning came as a shrill bells ringing in his ears. Jisung didn't hear it. Jaemin didn't hear it. Renjun wished he didn't hear it.

"I… should visit, shouldn't I?" Renjun feebly said.

Jisung looked at him weird. "You really should. He always asks about you."

"Does he?" Renjun mumbled, already escaping from Jisung's judgemental glare. "Yeah… I'll visit him soon."

Soon.

Jaemin's time was coming to an end soon and so was Renjun's final visit. 

He couldn't bring himself to hate that word, as much as he tried.

  
  


  
  


  
  


Well into the night, visiting hours had long closed. Renjun had slipped in, unseen. He had never been to Jaemin's room before, but his feet knew where to bring him. 

It was hushed. Nurses rarely frequented Jaemin's floor, a place for quiet, long-time rest. Renjun entered Jaemin's room, peeking at the machinery guarding his bed and his chest undulating gently in the darkness.

Renjun approached the bed, muting his footsteps with careful, slow movements. Jaemin was sleeping quite well, his head turned to the side, facing the glassy window. A smile seized Renjun's lips. 

No one would look at his serene expression and realize that he was destined to die in an hour. Renjun wouldn't either. Some knowledge was cursed. He bore a heavy weight on his shoulders, drilling into the empty holes of what once was.

Renjun leaned over the bed. The swollen moon casted a spotlight through the window and Renjun was faced with his shadow hovering on Jaemin's sleeping figure. He was shrouded in darkness, but he was embraced tight. The shadow had a lot to say — it reflected Renjun's wings curling over Jaemin, when they both knew they weren't really there anymore.

"Be well, Jaemin," Renjun muttered. He crouched over to brush away Jaemin's bangs, to press a kiss on his forehead. Jaemin slept on, undisturbed, peaceful as ever. Renjun smiled.

He took in a deep breath. It would be his last. 

Closing his eyes, Renjun focused. Recited a distant prayer to the gods. They might have despised him by then — surely they were disappointed at a child who denounced everything for one insignificant human — but they would always listen. 

Renjun counted the seconds. He couldn't wait.

_One, two, three —_

There would be no more of that gentle shadow caressing Jaemin's figure.

  
  


  
  


  
  


"Jaemin!"

Jisung shakes him by the shoulders, excitable and jittery. Jaemin's bleary eyes languidly blink, one by one, words slurred from drowsiness.

"Jisung…?" Jaemin mumbles. "Isn't it a bit early for you to be here?"

Jaemin doesn't expect the bear hug Jisung throws onto him.

"The doctors said you're well on the road to recovery!"

Jaemin doesn't say much; he pats Jisung on the back, chin lowering into the dip of his shoulder. On the far end of the bed, a white feather twinkles curiously. Jaemin reaches his arm out to try and grab it, but it dissipates into a cloud of ashes, blown by the breeze swirling from the open window until there's nothing more.

He supposes it was a lingering dream and hugs Jisung, tight, taking in the good news with a growing, toothy smile.

  
  


  
  


  
  


Renjun would give Jaemin one more try.

_And I'll gladly be selfish for once — so I can take your death for myself._

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on [twitter](https://twitter.com/Iabitgray)... kind of ^^


End file.
